Last week, on my way back from Vancouver, I stopped for the weekend in Saskatchewan to see an old friend. More like an older Brother, or Yoda as I once called him. We have survived life's ups and downs by connecting at a deep level that I can only surmise would be possible among siblings. Alas I have no Brother or Sister so my same sex equivalent of a soul mate holds that honor.
Landing in Regina is a pleasure. A fine airport in its own right, it does not have all those things that irritate the traveller in hubs like Toronto and Montreal - like planes, people and quality shops that should have the motto "no mark up it too big for us"!
Leaving the airport I remembered my dear friends comments that "whatever you need in Regina it's only 15 minutes away". Promising, but a lie! I didn't pass one Starbucks on the way to their place. Maybe Starbucks had not attacked Regina yet. Maybe they have and were beaten back by pitchfork wielding locals with Tim Horton's mugs.
30 minutes north east of Regina is the town of Beuna Vista (once called Regina Beach but I gather there was some sort of feudal incident and lines were drawn), a beautiful piece of country that literally indents the flat lands and refills it with lakes, flora, fawna, and a slightly slower rotation of the planet.
I settled right in, checking my Blackberry only bi-hourly, rather than every 10 minutes. Ahh relaxation!!
I was met with a huge hug and a kiss, followed by the same from my friends wife, a woman who I dearly love, and at the same time deeply respect for her strong presence and ability to accept me on my own terms without ever trying to change me.
My friend, lets call him Big H, was ready with the drinks and sunshine. We sat on the flat roof of his garage where you can see the lake, and covered all of the "catch up" topics necessary to get us up to speed.
I've known Big H only 15 years, but it seem like a lifetime. He knows what to say when advice is needed, but more importantly, he knows what not to say when you just need to pour your soul (which his wife, lets call her Bev because that is her name, believes I still have possession of).
We covered business and how the company was doing since I fired him (a story for another day), and I got the goods on his family - a son's happy marriage, and a beautiful daughter's sad divorce. Many a tear welled up in the corner of our eyes, but Big H and I don't cry. That's for the weak! Haa
Finally the invitation came to go down to the dock and take a boat ride at sunset. On arrival I did nothing to prepare the boat because that would be like me bringing a cup of water to the Hindenburg disaster, pointless and ineffectual. So I watched. Interested in the process, I had many questions, most related to the odds of me drowning.
Pulling out of the marina a sense of peace slipped over me. The conversation stopped and we just observed. An orange sky was burning over the horizon where the sun had recently crashed. The waves made choppy sounds against the hull and the brisk spray refreshed my face and arms.
Water birds with babies on their back bobbed by the boat as we drifted for a while. I don't know the names of birds so I called them Charlie and Rebbecca. Seemed right!
It was the shortest 90 minutes of the year. Too dark to continue I reluctantly climbed out on to the floating dock and found my land legs (not immediately).
Leaving for the airport the next morning I embraced Big H and Bev. Two of the best people on the planet. They gave me so much in two days and they will never know what it means to me. My emotional tank refilled, I drove to Regina, past the suicidal Prairie Dogs that line the highway, into the city and returned the rental car (in two minutes - please take note you Boneheads at Pearson in Toronto).
I was happy to get on board the plane (minus a business class - what the Hell?) but sad that I could not take Big H, Bev and Regina Beach with me. But then, If I did, it wouldn't be the same. Soul mates and refills are a gift - and I am willing to travel for that gift.
Thank you Big H
